El tango de Roxanne
by RabbitHole
Summary: Kurt Hummel has left High School far behind. When he's throwing himself into alcohol, drugs and prostitution, he seems to have no further prospects for the future. But even having no future does not ensure that the past will give him a rest.
1. Chapter 1

**So uhm... This story was orginally written by me some time ago, in Polish. The problem is that Glee fandom in Poland is really small, I didn't have many readers. And as much as I love them all, some people thought that Roxanne is worth translating to English, so more people could read it. I'm a really insecure person and the thought that my writing can be... Well... Worth anything, has never crossed my mind. But the same someone who translated all of it, insisted, which pretty much brings us here.  
>I'm working hard on improving my English, but it's definitely not "I-can-easily-write-a-full-story" good. That's why I couldn't translate it by myself. You see, I understand everything I read, but I make too many grammar mistakes (If you're still reading it, you probably got it by now) and that's because Polish and English are completely different languages.<br>Anyway.  
>The person who translated it wants to stay anonymous (Which I find incredibly stupid, because she's an amazing girl), so I would like to thank someone else. That person is <em>dmhgbz<em>, who was mine and my lovely translator's beta in this chapter. I guess it wasn't quite easy job, so thank you for your patience.  
>And... Something more from me:<br>I finished writing Roxanne... Woah, it's been few months already. But this story still has a big place in my heart and writing it hurt so much, because somewhere along the way, it got really personal. I don't think my writing is good, but I do love this story. And... I guess, all I'm trying to say is that I'd be so happy, if you loved it too.**

* * *

><p>Three years, twenty one days, fourteen hours ago.<p>

That is when Kurt Hummel died. The funeral was kept quiet, just like his death. Kurt Hummel died silently, without fireworks. No one noticed his disappearance. Besides, his friends and family were sure that the boy is still living and he's good - perfect student, who was making his way up the success ladder.

They didn't know one thing. Kurt Hummel didn't even put a foot on the first rung.

You see, the world had a lot to offer to Kurt. However, it had a lot more to offer to Roxanne - at least, that's what Kurt thought.

Don't get me wrong, Kurt Hummel was never proud of his profession. Nevertheless, in some twisted way, he enjoyed it. Sex has never meant a lot to him, but he liked to feel wanted. Wasn't it what he wanted his whole teenage life?

No. That's bullshit. Really, Kurt Hummel hated Roxanne. He hated Roxanne even more than the guy who made him do THESE things in THAT toilet. This, those, there. Kurt would laugh, hearing those terms. Life taught him to get rid of the euphemisms, just like it taught him that innocence is not a feature that it'll come in handy with his profession.

Kurt also learned how to distinguish things. He could be a gentle lover, if that was what his client wanted, just to forget about them behind the closed door and coldly cross out his name from the list. Kurt was a professional. He couldn't allow himself to feel. Kurt believed that sex has nothing to do with love. No, not Kurt.

Roxanne.

Kurt was a whore, nothing else. Some time ago, at the beginning, he liked to convince himself that it's different. Those were the times, when sex meant something. Those were the times, when he didn't treat it as a job. However, he got used to the thought that he'll spread his legs for anyone who isn't Jack the Ripper and has some dollars in his pocket a long time ago.

Then the money. Kurt didn't earn too much, considering that he's a pretty good prostitute. Maybe it was the agency's fault, or maybe he simply didn't care. Maybe it was both.

Kurt knew that he was good. He was good from the beginning. His customers liked his innocent appearance, beautiful voice. One of them even called him an angel once. But Kurt didn't like this pseudonym. He preferred Roxanne. However, Roxanne's wings were simply different than angelic ones. But if what is true?

Kurt hasn't thought about it much. Sometimes he would like to live without past, without the realisation that somewhere behind him, there's something as trivial as the past. You see, Kurt didn't remember his first customer. That was, at least, what he was telling himself, but in the end, if we're doing something for the first time, involuntarily, we remember it. But Kurt didn't want to remember. He didn't want to think. He ignored this silent thought in his head, telling him that if the really didn't care about what he was doing, he wouldn't try so hard to erase the bad things. Actually, since he first got paid for sex, Kurt started to ignore a lot of things.

At the beginning, Kurt didn't work for any agency. He worked on his own, using sex as additional profit. He didn't remember the moment, or a particular reason, for why he did it for the first time. In his memory, everything was a series of random and chaotic events.

Don't judge Kurt too quickly. It's not like he left his dreams. It's not like he didn't try. You see, Kurt still studied. Ultimately, his parents spent a lot of money, to provide future to him and his step brother. Kurt could be barely a shadow of his past life, but he still cared. And he couldn't, he just couldn't use the situation.

Of course, somewhere deep down, he still dreamed about Broadway, acting and a lot of magnificent masks he could wear. Clearly he didn't go in this direction. Maybe it never was fulfillment of his dreams, or maybe he was just scared. Anyway, he's studying journalism. Partly, he hoped that he'll be able to fulfill his second passion, which was fashion. However, Kurt lost his hope, when he was still in high school. He left his studies after a year, but he felt obliged to tell about it his family. He told them, that he needs to understand who he wants to be and what he wants to achieve. It was only partly a lie.

After leaving studies, Kurt stopped pretending that he took care about himself and he gave in to the simplest thing he could - decadence. It was also one of the reasons why he earned that little. He should respect his body (If you can say this, considering his profession), at least just to not scare his clients. He still heard it. Meanwhile Kurt's body was a wreck and he didn't have a strength to take care of it.

Kurt was skinny. Stridently skinny. This, combined with his pale skin, gave a terrifying effect. His hair was matte, his lips were always chapped. Sometimes he forgot about meals - despite his financial problems, he happily said goodbye to the times when he couldn't afford food - he gradually replaced them with alcohol. When he was lucky.

The different thing was that Kurt barely slept. If you think about it, he didn't sleep since three years. Impossible? Kurt stopped believing in this after the first year, when he realised that in his case, sleeping means only lying on the bed with his eyes closed. Sometimes, however, he was lucky enough to dream. Falsely. Kurt's brain was like television, which after some hour was repeating the programs. It gave him the projection of former memories, happy or not. Beautiful ones were the nightmares, the tragic ones gave him solace. Sometimes he didn't know, what really happened and what was the product of his sick mind.

***  
><em>Kurt is crying, crying very bitterly. He realises that Blaine is talking to him, but the words are passing him by. Does it really matter? Blaine probably tries to comfort him. Yes. He feels that familiar hand, stroking gently his back, trying to calm him down. Finally, something is starting to kick in.<br>_  
><em>"…and you know it doesn't really matter to me. I love you and I don't need these kind of… assurances from you. I mean…"<br>_  
><em>'Stop it, Blaine', he wants to say. He made such a fool of himself. He let him down. He's a horrible boyfriend, he doesn't deserve Blaine. He really wanted to give him something… his. He didn't even know why he reacted that way. He loved Blaine. He trusted him. And he was so sure he was positive about all of this. He was still sure, when he felt Blaine's clumsy fingers unbuttoning his cardigan. He didn't hesitate. However, the tears running down his cheeks said something completely different.<br>_  
><em>"I'm sorry, if I did something that made you…" Blaine stops. "You know, I wouldn't do that on purpose."<br>_  
><em>Kurt can't stand this.<br>_  
><em>"Can you stop?" He hears his high voice.<br>_  
><em>Blaine looks at him, looking confused. He seems to be a little hurt.<em>

_"Stop what?"  
><em>  
><em>"Being so freaking perfect and gentle, when I…" He can't find the right words. "I can't believe, you still want to look at me. I'm ugly. I let you down. And you can say that sex doesn't matter, but we both know it's not true. I beg myself, so you won't hate me, but you take all responsibility on you and it's so…"<br>_  
><em>Blaine stops him, kissing him gently. His lips hardly touch Kurt's, knowing how sensitive they are. He cups his cheeks and then laughs quietly and speaks, buttoning up Kurt's sweater.<br>_  
><em>"Obviously, we were both very lucky to find each other."<em>

Kurt opened his eyes.

He didn't feel anything, but deep down he knew he should. Times when the memories involving Blaine caused him pain were gone with high school. He hadn't thought about him too much, except for the moments when Blaine was visiting him in his dreams. And even then, they were cold.

This time, something didn't let him get up from the bed and forget, as always. He was still thinking about his dream, or more like a memory, so distant, that it seemed like from his past life.

'Don't, Kurt. Forget about it.'

He got up fast and run under the shower, which wasn't his best idea. When he was washing his hair, he heard that quiet voice in his head, again. That voice which he tried to ignore for so long.  
>'Maybe if that evening looked a little bit differently… Maybe if Blaine was the first, not some nameless boy… Maybe then his life would look completely different. Maybe something could be saved.'<p>

He shook his head. No. He didn't have time to think about this. Stuff like that was making him laugh; besides, he wasn't that boy anymore, he couldn't turn back in time. Thinking about this won't be helpful.

Kurt left the shower, watching critically his scars and bruises, covering his whole petite body. Well. You don't choose clients. Kurt didn't like to look at himself in the mirror (He stopped doing that when he first saw that he can count each and every one of his bones.), and his reflection scared him so much, he had to turn his eyes away. After a while he heard a ringtone coming from the other room. He quickly dried himself off, put on his clothes and left the bathroom.

Kurt's apartment was rather small, but Kurt loved it - in the end, it was the only substitute of the home, he had (but considering high rent, he wasn't sure for how long). His neighborhood wasn't the worst, but it also wasn't the safest place during nights. That's why Kurt didn't invited his customers here, and even if, it happened quite rarely. Besides, Kurt appreciated privacy, so he preferred not to associate his work with the normal life.

His apartment was pedantically clean, so finding his cell phone didn't take him much time. Kurt quickly accepted the call. Before he could even say 'Yes?' he heard familiar voice.

"Student, twenty years old, doesn't have special requirements. Are you in?"

Kurt sighed, feeling a little vexed.

"Do I have another choice?"

"Not really," Arlette stopped for a moment. "Hey, cheer up, at least you'll earn something, Roxanne. Oh, by the way, you could change your name. I'm getting tired of explaining to everyone that you're not a woman."

Kurt shook his head, even if the woman on the other side of the line couldn't see it.

"Pseudonym stays," he said firmly.

He was sure that Arlette rolled her eyes.

"So fucking uptight… as always. Never mind. I'm giving you the address."

Kurt wrote down the informations on the little piece of paper and ended the call, sighing.

Showtime.


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm really sorry for the delay, but we had some problems with finding a new beta. But this problem was solved, we can go on. **  
><strong>Our beta in this chapter was <strong>**exiamcland-189. Thank you so much, for your time. :)**  
><strong>But now, let's go back to the story.<strong>

* * *

><p>Kurt was kissing the man's neck when, for the first time he looked at his face. He wanted to laugh. He could easily call him a boy. It wasn't that he looked young, exactly - quite the opposite, really. However, Kurt hardly ever saw someone with so much innocence and teenage dreams their eyes. If he were honest with himself, he'd have recognized that look from a few years ago in his own eyes when he was looking in the mirror.<p>

Kurt rarely looked his clients in the eyes. When he did that, he felt as if, they stopped being anonymous and they started being real, with their own history, problems, dreams. He couldn't have that, as long as he cared about keeping his mental health.

The boy was perfect. Kurt couldn't describe him any other way. He wondered why someone so beautiful would need a prostitute. His big, green eyes were darkened from the lust, and in them Kurt saw many things. He saw how he was losing himself in pleasure, leaving that innocence behind. He felt the boy's nails digging into his back and he knew, that in few minutes it would be over. Kurt tried to be gentle - he could see that desperate need for love in boy's eyes. That didn't happen very often with his clients; they usually looked for something different, and were often satisfied just when Kurt was spreading his legs, letting them take control. Most of Kurt's customers were old, married men, who most likely told themselves that sleeping with a boy still gives them place in the elite, 'heterosexual club'. Kurt repeatedly answered the phone for them, calling himself their assistant and calming the wives when the men had problems with their excuses. One of the reasons why businessmen chose the cheap agency where Kurt worked was anonymity. It was harder for that to be the case with the more expensive agencies.

When everything was over, Kurt hoped that the boy would fall asleep and he'd be able to sneak out, but it turned out that he was out of luck. The sun begun to rise and neither of them were sleeping. When the first rays of sunlight reached the room, Kurt heard boy gasp. His eyes were gazing in horror upon the scars that were covering most of Kurt's body. Gently, he touched one of them.

"Is this because of your job?" he asked quietly, as if he were scared that speaking any louder could hurt Kurt even more.

Kurt tangled his fingers into boy's hair and kissed him softly. "Not everyone is like you," he replied.

There was silence. The boy still looked at him with his eyes wide from fear and disbelief. "Why would anyone hurt you?" he asked after a moment.

Kurt stifled a laugh. He wasn't mistaken, when he first judged this client – he was just a beautiful, naive boy. "What's your name? I don't think you told me."

"Josh."

Kurt smiled to himself. He was breaking his own rules now, but he really didn't care. Gently, he caressed Josh's skin, slightly below his shoulder blade. Josh looked at him with interested eyes, his red lips parted slightly.

"Because, Josh, I don't mean anything. I don't mean more than this room, for which you paid, not more than a new pair of shoes, or a coffee you may buy every morning. People have right to do what they want with the things they pay for."

"You're not a thing, Roxanne. You don't believe this yourself, though, do you?"

Kurt didn't answer. Josh nestled into him, lightly kissing one of the particularly ugly looking scars.

"I'm sorry that I asked. You probably don't like it."

Kurt shook his head.

"It's okay. I think that it's quite... adorable that you care. My customers usually don't think twice about things like that. You're the first one, actually."

The boy raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "You know, you should be called Satine, not Roxanne," he said after a while.

Kurt smiled. Well, well. Not only pretty, but also acquainted. "Do you like musicals?" he asked.

Josh nodded.

"I study acting," he said with a shy smile. "First year."

"I know."

The boy crinkled his eyebrows. Kurt laughed. "Let's call it an experience/" He cupped his cheek in his hand. "I'll recognize that first year look anywhere."

Josh bit his lip. "You think I'm naive, don't you?"

Kurt thought about this for a minute. "No," he decided. "I think you're brave."

The boy looked at him, confused.

"Can I ask you something?" Kurt changed the topic. Josh simply nodded. "Why are you asking me all of this? Why do you care?"

There was a long pause. After awhile, Kurt heard a minute, his usual-unusual customer spoke.

"It's just... Looking at you stirs up a lot of different feelings in me. I see so much beauty that it's breathtaking. Then, I see the scars. It's as if I'm looking at a child with a gun, or an angel stained with blood. It's heartbreaking."

Kurt looked at him, his eyes serious. "Also heartbreaking can be image of the young, pretty boy, who wastes his time with a hooker," he said slowly.

Josh blushed madly, looking younger than ever. "I'm not that young."

Kurt laughed quietly. "I wasn't talking about your age."

Josh kissed him softly. It was one of the sweetest kisses Kurt has ever got.

"Me neither," he said when they broke apart.

He rested his head on Kurt's chest, and after a while Kurt thought the Josh had finally fallen asleep. But then he heard his voice singing a well-known melody.

"You don't have to sell your body to the night…"

***  
>Instead of leaving like he usually did with his other clients, Kurt stayed with Josh until he woke up. Kurt didn't sleep well at all, although time passed much quicker than he thought it would.<p>

When Josh gave him his number in case Kurt would like to meet him in a different sort of circumstance, Kurt smiled a little and tucked a little piece of paper in his pocket. He kissed boy's cheek and then left the hotel, never looking back. When he passed the corner, he took the piece of paper out and ripped it apart without reading the numbers scrawled on its surface. Josh deserved someone better than Kurt. He couldn't destroy another person's life.

"Not your type?" a voice asked behind him.

Kurt spun around quickly. He could recognize that voice anywhere. "Blaine?"

Blaine smiled. "Hi."

This smile, this voice, this face - so much, and so little had changed since the last time they'd met. Kurt didn't want to run into Blaine and say hello, the fact that they hadn't seen each other in years obvious. He wanted it to feel as though it'd only been a day, like Kurt was still Kurt, not Roxanne. He wanted it to be as if they were still together. He wanted so much.

Kurt couldn't move. He looked at Blaine, hoping that maybe, just maybe he'd make the first step. Maybe Kurt wouldn't even have to speak again. He knew he should say something, but he felt as if something was blocking his tongue, and as if his arms and legs were tied with long, silk scarves.

Blaine looked at him, pain evident in his eyes. He stayed silent, but Kurt felt his apologies coming off of him in waves, floating in the air like dust on a sunny day.

Kurt woke up sweaty. For a while he didn't quite know where he was, and why he was there. After a while the realization hit him. Josh. The hotel. Right.

He turned his head, but the bed on his left side was empty. Well, not quite. On the pillow lay an envelope with his name written on it. He wondered what was in it because Josh already paid. Impatiently, he ripped open the paper, cutting his middle finger in the process, which he didn't even feel, as he read:

_Roxanne, just so you know, I'm pretty good at reading people, too. Let's call it an experience in my job. See you on stage. _

_Josh._

Under the note was a telephone number. Just like in his dream, Kurt tore the piece of paper and when he left, he never looked back. 

***  
>Kurt wasn't quite sure what his name was. He wasn't sure what he was doing or why. He only knew that he felt amazing, too amazing to care about Kurt Hummel, whoever he was.<p>

He liked the first hit the most, when he felt the power running through his veins. Oh, who was he kidding? Kurt loved everything about this.

He heard the familiar melody, which he started humming. When he finally realized, that it was his ringtone, he answered the phone, giggling.

"Yeah?"

"Kurt? Is that you?"

"Daaaaddy!" he yelled and started laughing. "I missed you!"

On the other side of the line he only heard silence.

"Kurt, are you drunk?" his dad asked after awhile.

Kurt chuckled again.

"Maybe yes, maybe no, you never know. If yes, would you love me less?" he asked, fumbling with the phone in his hand. He tried to make his voice sound more serious, which wasn't his best idea. "You see, dad, I did a lot of bad things. You know? But it doesn't matter! Because you love me! Or maybe... Would you like me to tell you about this?"

Burt sighed, covering his face with his hands, which his son couldn't see. He tried to make his voice sound strong.

"I'll call you tomorrow, when you're sober."

"Dad, dad, I'm an angel!" yelled Kurt. The other line was dead silent. "I can't find my wings, I can't find my wings…" 

***  
>Kurt wasn't surprised when he saw Rachel. They lived in the same city and his father probably called her yesterday, just to make sure he was okay. He was grateful for that, but he also tried to ignore the guilt that was growing in his chest.<p>

The whole three of them, he, Rachel and Mercedes decided to study in one city. They were surprisingly coherent - New York, the city of dreams. They were such naive kids.

Rachel knew exactly what Kurt was doing for living. He confessed this to her during one evening, when the meeting with a client got out of control and he almost landed in the hospital. Mercedes knew, too. However, unlike Rachel, she couldn't accept this. At the beginning she was dealing just fine. But after a few months the contact disappeared, and they both seemed relieved that the situation turned out that way. Kurt couldn't look at the pain in her eyes every time she looked at him, and she... She couldn't deal with anything. Rachel also lost a contact with her, but they didn't talk about this. One day, however, she brought some happy news, a little announcement about engagement in one of magazines. Mercedes Jones and Anthony Rice. Who would have thought?

Rachel only partly followed her dreams. Yes, she had a job on the Broadway. She was a make-up artist and an agent of one Broadway actor. She still hoped that one day someone would see her talent and she'd shine like the one of the stars that were her idol in high school. In the free time Rachel worked as a singing teacher. She was a terrible mentor - poor children couldn't have a few minutes off with her. But still, she knew what she was doing.

When Kurt woke up again, Rachel was lying on the bed next to him, going through some magazine. Never breaking the eye contact with the article, which she was reading, she yelled.

"Good morning, sunshine!"

Her voice ran through Kurt's skull, making him feel dull, pulsating pain. He moaned, his hands flying to clutch his head.

"You deserved it" Rachel murmured without mercy in her voice. She looked on the mess in his apartment. "Do you wanna talk about this?"

Kurt rubbed his face and started staring up at the ceiling. "Not really."

"That's a shame, because I do," she snarled. "What the hell was that supposed to mean? You don't remember the last time, you idiot? If I hadn't found you, you'd be dead!"

Kurt didn't answer. He stared, unmoved into the wall. Rachel meanwhile calmed down a little.

"Look, maybe you don't care about yourself, but think about your dad. He just got back from the hospital, remember? I know it's hard for you to deal with that, but there's nothing much keeping him alive. Your death could start another one."

Kurt exceptionally didn't find her drama funny. He collapsed into the mattress and forced his face into the pillow.

"Why are you here?"

"Because we're friends," she replied mechanically. They were going through this too many times.

He turned to look at her.

"Why?"

"I have a weakness for messed up people."

Kurt didn't laugh.

"You're wasting your time."

"You're right, my time. And I intend to waste it when I want to and how I want to."

For a while, neither of them spoke. Kurt was listening to the silent blowing of the wind, which was making him tired. He closed his eyes. "You'll run away, sooner or later," he said, with his voice slurred. His words were a little bit distorted because of the pillow, but he didn't have the strength to care.

He heard Rachel's quiet sigh.

"Kurt, I know what are you afraid of. So let me say it one more time - I wouldn't leave you. I'm not Mercedes. I'm not Blaine. And... You can tell yourself that all of it doesn't hurt you anymore, but... You don't even know how big impact on your life has had on the people that you love."

He felt her hand slowly running through his hair.

"But like I told you before... You're not alone."

Kurt didn't hear those words. He was gone into the world full of memories, leaving reality forgotten.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I bet some of you lost hope, huh? I'm really sorry for the... woah, long delay, but finding beta is almost impossible. Not almost, actually. I tried to find one since October and in the end didn't succeed, that's why I'm sorry if you'll find more mistakes than usually. I checked the chapter _with a little help from my friends._ None of them is native English speaker._  
><em>That's why... If some of you would like to help, please contact me. I'm not sure how long I can continue without beta.  
>Anyway.<em><br>_I hope this chapter won't disappoint you.

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><p>Kurt didn't like the sun anymore.<p>

Since he started working for the agency, he was living the night life. Actually, he made himself love the darkness so much that he didn't let his clients to leave the lights on, if they weren't particularly demanding. He didn't want to be watched. He didn't want to see the pity in their eyes. He didn't want to be judged. That's why he was always leaving before the dawn, before the first sunshine rays appeared above horizon.

Like I said, Kurt didn't like the sun anymore. 'Cause in the sunlight, he was able to see all of his scars. Not only the ones on his body.

Sighing, Kurt slid down his jeans a little (Since he bought them, he lost weight so quickly that he didn't even have to unbutton them) and critically looked at the bruises on his hips. Looks like he was going to scare his clients for the next month. Damnit.

Suddenly Kurt's phone started ringing. Without looking away from the mirror, he took it out of his pocket and accepted the call.

"Yeah?"

"I have an offer to you, sweet Roxanne."

'Sweet.' He sighed, irritated. So he wasn't going to like the offer.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked simply.

"Oh, it's not what you think. It's just... I want you to incline your rules a little."

He raised his eyebrows and quickly fixed his hair.

"Women are not my thing, I told you."

"You've missed again. Not that rule."

Kurt groaned.

"I'm not going to sleep with the same guy for the second time!"

"He insisted! He promised, he'll pay twice your price. Roxanne, just think about this!"

No. There was no way that Kurt will bend any of his rules. It has never ended well. Apart from his profession, there were still things that were more important to him than money. But if...

He bit his lip.

"I'm not considering it, but what customer do you have in mind?"

"I can't tell you."

'Or you don't want to', thought Kurt.

"I don't like it" he said.

Arlette laughed out loud.

"I knew you were going to do this."

When she gave him an address, it didn't take him much time to realize who was his mystery client.

***  
>Kurt rested his hands on his hips.<p>

"Let's do this," he said coldly.

Bryan was Kurt's first customer. The first one who was assigned to him from the agency. Kurt, however, liked to tell himself he didn't remember that. No, he didn't remember how he felt when this guy moved his fingers across his skin, knowing that every inch of it is for sale. No, he didn't remember how he felt when he was coming in his arms. And the most important, he didn't remember this voice, repeating his name like a mantra and shamelessly cutting the silence.

Kurt was wondering why Bryan decided to find him now.

He pretended that he didn't remember him. He never looked him in the eyes. He didn't try to see his face, when they were kissing. He didn't check if he changed or if he was still attracted to him.

He was simply doing his job.

It wasn't only about professionalism. There was a reason why Kurt wanted to make Bryan disappear from his life.

When Kurt started his job in the agency, he was already a little bit experienced, but he quickly realized how much he still has a lot to learn. So far he was able to separate sex and feelings and those were things that he found the most important about this job.

Bryan made him realize how wrong he was.

Kurt wouldn't have that problem, if he's first client was some disgusting, old guy, one of those you can find everywhere. He wouldn't have a problem, if he wasn't attracted to him and he would be able just to close his eyes and wait until everything is over.

But Bryan was different. One night with him taught Kurt all of the rules he was still obediently following.

You see, Bryan never wanted to dominate Kurt. He never wanted to humiliate him. Bryan never bothered with dirty or sweet talk. Bryan wasn't lying. Bryan never pretended that he cared. Bryan simply _was_.

In spite of the things he was telling himself, Kurt never forgot those eyes. Never forgot the dilating pupils, when they both felt the world shattering around them, separating them from everything. Kurt never forgot what those eyes made him do.

As you probably already noticed, Kurt let himself to break the rules from time to time. But after the incident with Bryan, he never broken one - never mix you private life with your work. Always separate feelings from physicality.

And no matter how badly Kurt wanted it, he wasn't able to forget that night.

He still remembered what he felt when he fell, completely exhausted, on the pillow. He remembered the feeling of his heart breaking in the million pieces. He remembered what he felt when he cuddled to Bryan, crying on his shoulder for the next hour.

In his whole life Kurt never felt so fragile and vulnerable like he was that day.

When they were lying next to each other, Kurt started speaking. Without good grammar or keeping the normal pace of events, he was simply telling Bryan different stories.

No, no different stories.

The concrete one.

He told him about Blaine.

Kurt still felt the weight of the things he said, when he was kissing those familiar lips. But this time, he promised himself that he won't speak at all.

His fingers skillfully started to work Bryan's shirt open, letting his hands move across his chest. Bryan sighed quietly, never stopping kissing Kurt's neck. He grabbed him by the hips, moving him closer, trying to close every inch between them, just like he wanted to get rid of every limit. Like clothes, for example. His hands cupped Kurt's ass which he welcomed with a relieve. Maybe this night won't be that different than the others. Bryan grabbed Kurt's waist and picked him up, settling him on the table, never breaking the kiss. Kurt wrapped his legs around Bryan's waist to bring him closer.

And that's when Bryan moved away from him.

"I can't," he whispered.

Kurt blinked few times, trying to contain his rapid breathing.

"Excuse me?"

"I can't.

Bryan fell down on the bed, moving his hands across his face. Kurt looked at him, silent, and knowing he'll regret it, he sat next to him. After a while Bryan spoke again.

"What happened to you, Roxanne?"

Kurt didn't know what to say.

"You see, you weren't the first prostitute I've met," continued Bryan. "I remember, however, what grabbed my attention. That glint in your eyes."

Kurt was speechless. He tried to avoid Bryan's gaze, but his strong hands grabbed his face, forcing him to look him in the eyes. Kurt didn't know what else to do, so he hid himself behind his eyelids. "Please, don't destroy this," he begged, never opening his eyes.

He felt Bryan's hands moving slowly down his cheeks, before finally releasing him. "I was looking for you," he said after the moment of silence. "All the time. I was told that the agency can't give me your address. And that you don't want to see me. But every day I was hoping that I'll meet you. Or, that you'll change your mind."

Kurt slowly opened his eyes, but Bryan wasn't looking at him. When he looked him in the eyes, he saw something he never expected to see.

_Tenderness._

His head started spinning.

"What do you expect from me?" he asked. His voice was trembling from anger. "Because I don't understand."

"Kurt, I..."

Kurt completely forgot that Brian knew his name and it only made him even more angry.

"You! Exactly! You! Why do you think I care?"

Bryan was simply looking at him, trying to say something, but Kurt wasn't going to stop right now.

"Life is not a movie, Bryan. You can believe in being my own Ewan McGregor and you can start singing "Come What May", trying to assure me about your devotion to the whore**, **but we all know that in that fairytale, prince will leave his princess after she'll spread her legs in front of him! So don't pretend you care about something more than fucking me all night long!"

Bryan didn't say anything else. Actually, none of them spoke again. The only sounds escaping them were only quiet sighs and moans.

After everything, Bryan started crying. He begged Kurt not to leave him. Kurt only nodded, wiping the tears out of his lover's eyes, promising he'll stay.

However, when the sunlight woke Bryan up the next morning, Kurt was gone. The left side of the mattress was cold and empty, but when Bryan pressed his face to the pillow, he could still feel the strong scent of Roxanne. It was the only thing that made him sure that this night wasn't just a dream. When he was leaving the room, he saw the money laying on the small table next to the door.

It was the first time when Kurt didn't accept his payment.

They've never met again.

***  
>After the night with Bryan, Kurt answered only one of Arlette's calls, just to tell her he needs a week off. And so the week passed by. Then another two weeks. For most of the time, Kurt didn't leave his bed. Usually, he was too drunk to even think about it. He still didn't answer calls from anyone, even from Rachel. When she was knocking on his door, Kurt pretended he wasn't there. After a while she stopped coming, but Kurt knew that it didn't mean she gave up. It just wasn't the first time when Kurt was hiding himself from the world. Rachel knew he'll be fine if she gives him some time.<p>

A month passed by.

And after a month, Kurt finally picked up the phone. Arlette obviously wasn't expecting him to answer, because she didn't say anything. Kurt quickly used her silence.

"Give me anything" he said shortly.

Arlette asked no questions.

***  
>Kurt from the beginning knew what kind of customer was that. Clenched lips, uptight figure, taciturnity. He knew, that after that night, in the best way, he'll only have a couple of bruises. When he felt the man tugging his wrist, he closed his eyes, trying to stop the irritated sigh. It could only make his client angrier. For every touch, even the most brutal one, Kurt responded with light brushes. He didn't feel disgust. And even if, it wasn't for the man whose hands were going to make new bruises in Kurt's once flawless skin.<p>

Kurt hadn't remember many things connected to this profession, but even if he would like to, he couldn't forget the first time when his customer hit him. In his memory this moment seemed to last forever while in reality it only lasted few seconds. He didn't remember which pain was stronger or what made his cheek blush - the quick movement of his customer's hand or the burning feeling of humiliation. Kurt was still fresh, so he has done what seemed appropriate back then. He ran away, as fast as he could, leaving behind everything and promising himself he'll never let that happened again. No one pushes Hummels around, right?

How easily he forgot about this. He never felt guilty, though. All it took was to stop looking in the mirror.

There was something wrong with that man, Kurt realized and his scent hit Kurt's nostrils strongly. He tried to ignore the panic raising inside his chest, not knowing how to deal with it. He had bad feeling about this from the very beginning.

This thought accompanied him when his client quickly removed the only barrier separating their bodies, sliding his not-very-brand boxers off Kurt's hips. He hissed quietly, when the material teased painfully his hipbones. It was the last thing Kurt remembered before he felt the worst pain he has ever left in his life.

***  
>White.<p>

Everything was white.

Kurt's eyes were still closed, but he felt the light invading his eyes, making him feel pain.

Pain.

Kurt moved anxiously.

This word moved something in his memory, but the silent voice inside his head told him that he shouldn't think too much about this. Without second thoughts, he listened to the advice and let his thoughts take other direction. He had to establish few things.

First of all, he was curious where he was right now.

Second of all, why was he here?

Third of all, why it was so hard for him to find his proper limbs and move them?

Fourth of all, how do you use your eyes?

Fifth of all, who was holding his hand right now?

Kurt knew that there's only one way to find the answers for all of his questions. Despite the screaming inside him, telling him it's a bad idea, he blinked few times.

He regretted it instantly. The pain was unbearable. He wanted to scream, but somewhere he lost his voice. Maybe it burnt down in the same flame that was now consuming his whole body. Or maybe Kurt just didn't hear anything.

No. He quickly rejected that option. Because he heard something else. A voice, full of despair, chanting his name.

"Kurt, Kurt! You're moving, oh my God, you're moving! Come on, look at me, don't be afraid, I'll help you. don't give up. Only this one last battle, Kurt! Open your eyes! Fight!"

Kurt didn't want to hear that voice. It was making him ache. And it denied him this one thing he wanted the most - instead of that other voice, a little quieter, sounding inside his head, which encouraged him to subside into the nothingness.

"Kurt, I know you can hear me. Open your eyes, please. If you won't like what you'll see, you can do whatever you want. Just look."

Kurt didn't obey the order. He didn't remember how did he force his eyelids to move, but whatever it was, it didn't work now. He realized, however, that he knows where his tongue his. He took a risk.

"Blaine?"

Kurt didn't recognize his voice. It was much more thicker than normally and it was hurting his throat. It scared him. What if he lost his unique tone of voice? What if the fate took away from him everything that made him so special?

"Blaine, I won't get the solo," he said in a teary tone. "Now Mr. Schuester will kick me out of Glee Club. We'll lose the competition..."

"Kurt, what are you..."

But Kurt didn't listen to him anymore. Yes, he has to face Karofsky tomorrow. Why did he leave Dalton? Now, that he lost his voice, all of his friends will leave him with his oppressor.

"Blaine, you won't leave me, right? Not this time? You came back here, for me, I know you did. Blaine, if you only knew..."

He stopped. His memories stirred in Kurt's head, and he had problems with telling what happened when. Without opening his eyes, he started crying, realizing that he's not in high school anymore.

He realized that the hand holding his hand, never let go, even for a moment. The grip of Blaine's hand seemed to be the most right thing in the world. His fingers seemed to be craved the way to fit Kurt's hand perfectly. Just like in the past. Kurt thought that he feels bad for every guy Blaine was with after their relationship ended. He knew no one felt as good as Kurt did while holding his hand.

***  
>"...that you got here so quickly"<p>

"How did you find me?"

"Let's say I made a pact with the devil. I can be pretty successful when I want to achieve something. And I'm sorry I brought you here that way... But I had to. He was talking about you all the time."

Someone swallowed loudly.

"What exactly?"

Hesitation.

"Nothing... nothing that matters. When he was more conscious, he just kept saying your name, begging me to find you, but... For the most of the time he had a lot of problems with telling the difference between reality and hallucinations. For a second he thought I'm you, he thought he's still in high school, he was talking about competition, Glee Club... I thought that maybe if he'll hear your voice, something will change."

Longer silence.

"You've done the right thing. But I doubt I'll be helpful, though... I might make everything worse."

"A week passed since the last time he woke up and he still didn't open his eyes. When I told you on the phone, that you're our... his last hope, I wasn't being dramatic."

Silence.

"Is it really that bad? Is he..."

"That's the problem, no. The doctors say that he's fully conscious, his wounds and damages aren't enough to be the cause. There's only one possibility. He's conscious, he listens to everything we say, but..."

"…he doesn't want to come back." Sigh. "Did they... Did they find that psychopath?"

"Yeah. The testimony of Kurt's... boss helped a lot."

"How did Kurt's boss know who did that?"

"Let's say that... they know each other very well. If Kurt wants to, he'll tell you about this himself."

Silence again. Kurt listened to everything, wondering to who those familiar voices belonged to. It really didn't matter to him. It was probably another hallucination. He was interested in one of the last information, though. His subconscious might have been right at this point. So he had an answer for one of his questions.

_How long did he lay here?_

He tried to raise his hand, but nothing happened. He felt few of his muscles clenching lightly, but it wasn't enough to reach his goal.

"Kurt?"

Did he succeed?

No. No way.

"Kurt, can you hear us?"

Kurt wanted to respond, but only quiet murmur left his throat. He felt someone grabbing gently his hand.

"Rachel, could you...?"

Rachel, of course. That means the other voice belongs to...

His heart speeded up.

It wasn't a hallucination.

He heard the sound of the door slamming and then the quiet sigh. Even that sound made him feel something, something Kurt hasn't felt in a really long time. It wasn't love. That feeling disappeared long time ago and nothing lasts forever. But right next to him was sitting his best friend. Kurt completely forgot about his problems, about the fact that he's no longer the person Blaine knew. Nothing really mattered. Kurt was Kurt. Blaine was Blaine. And he missed him so much.

He felt warm breath on his neck, then right next to his ear. Then he heard a quiet whisper.

"You don't have to say anything. Just squeeze my fingers if you want me to stay."

Kurt did what Blaine asked for, so quickly, like his life depended on it.

And then he opened his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Huh, this time I don't need to say much.  
>I just want to thank katieo97 from S&amp;C who agreed to be my beta in this chapter.<br>Without you I wouldn't publish the chapter so soon. :)

* * *

><p>He has changed so much.<p>

A few hours passed, but Kurt still wasn't able to look away from Blaine. The whole time he was silent. He was sure that this time his voice wouldn't betray him, but he preferred to pretend he still can't speak, just so he can hear his friend's soft voice and be able to look at him with impunity. Blaine was talking about his new friends and studies, seeing how much it helps Kurt. Kurt didn't care, as long as he didn't have to think about where he was and why he was there.

Blaine has changed so much. It wasn't just about his manly posture, although he looked much more mature than Kurt could even imagine. Kurt noticed a few wrinkles and started wondering what had happened to make them appear. His silent side, which he tried to ignore, regretted that he couldn't be with him during those times. Sentimentality had to wait, though.

Kurt wasn't sure what he felt when he was looking at Blaine, just like he wasn't sure what Blaine feels when he's looking at him. He saw his reflection in Blaine's eyes. That view must've been heartbreaking even for a stranger, so he admired Blaine for acting like nothing was wrong. Just like they would have if they sat in some cozy coffee shop, remembering old times. As if that hospital was only a nightmare in Kurt's head. Blaine didn't want to push, because he knew there were things Kurt wouldn't tell him anyway. However, if he knew every little detail of this case, he would never ignore that topic.

Blaine explained to Kurt what injuries he has, even if his doctor did it for him before. However it was a completely different thing to hear it from his friend than from a complete stranger, so he was listening in silence. He had broken ribs, an arm and a few smaller injuries, but it didn't bother him too much. Blaine, optimistic as ever, provided that soon Kurt will be let out and everything will heal soon enough, which made Kurt smile a little.

That's how their morning has passed. Blaine was just talking about his brother's family, when Kurt finally decided to speak.

"If I didn't have the... accident, would you even like to meet me?" he interrupted.

His voice was very hoarse and probably nothing like the one Blaine remembered. Kurt saw in his eyes something he was too afraid to define, so he bent his head.

"I thought you didn't want to see me." He heard.

Blaine's voice lacked emotions. It was the exact reflection of what was going on inside of Kurt.

"Blaine, a little drama that happened few years ago isn't an obstacle or an excuse if you really want to see somebody."

"Kurt..."

Despite the sorrow creeping into his heart, Kurt managed to control his voice.

"Never mind, just drop it."

"But..."

Kurt clenched his eyes.

"I said 'Drop it'."

Suddenly the door opened and Rachel came into the room.

"Blaine, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Blaine sent Kurt apologetic smile and left . When Kurt started to wonder if he'll come back at all, the door opened again. Blaine seemed a little embarrassed and... No, Kurt didn't recognized that expression.

"Kurt, I would like to introduce you to someone."

A little girl looked shyly at Kurt from behind Blaine's back.

"It's my... daughter, Claire."

Nothing. Zero reaction.

No way.

His blood rushed to his head.

Daughter.

Boom, boom. His heart speeded up.

_ Blaine has a child._

Kurt felt like he was going to be sick.

_Blaine has a family._

Claire couldn't be older than three, maybe four. She had black, curly hair, that reached her back and big, blue eyes. If it wasn't for them, she could be the exact copy of her father and she was just as beautiful.

Father.

Kurt looked at Blaine, his eyes full of confusion. They might haven't seen each other this whole time, but he needed some explanation. Blaine probably understood, because he leaned over to the girl. "Darling, could you go to Rachel for five minutes? She's the nice lady you've been drawing with the whole morning," he whispered.

The girl nodded, took Blaine's face in his small hands and pecked him loudly on the cheek. Blaine laughed softly and looked at her as she ran away from the room.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't leave her with anyone," he said, clearly uncomfortable, when they were finally left alone. "Everything happened so quickly..."

Kurt didn't say a word. He was too shocked to say anything.

"You have... a daughter?" he finally said with the effort. "When... how..."

Blaine looked even more uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought her here just like that..."

Kurt decided not to let Blaine see what's going on inside of him and smiled a little. Lies were a part of his job.

"Don't apologize, you don't have to. It's just... So hard to believe. When I saw you last time, you couldn't even cook... And now you have a daughter."

"Let's just say she's the only thing I've done right in my life." Blaine bit his lip. "Everything else is only fucked up."

After that last sentence he sent Kurt a weird look. Kurt tried to pretend he didn't understand the allusion.

"Stop me, if I'm being rude, but... How...?"

Blaine stared blankly. "Short story? Party. I was drunk. Obviously too drunk to remember I'm gay. And it didn't end well."

"You've always been a little bisexual when drunk," pointed out Kurt, not bothering with hiding the irony. Blaine ignored him.

"I still don't know how that girl had found me... Anyway, I believed her just like that, I wasn't questioning my fatherhood. She said she wanted to give the child up for adoption and I accepted it. You see, I couldn't imagine my life with that strange girl or raising a baby. School, work, I had too many problems already... That's what I thought, at least, until the day she was born. Kate… the mother… didn't want me to be with her, so I waited outside just to make sure everything was alright. I didn't even want to look at that baby. I didn't feel the need. But... then the nurse came out of that room. She asked me if I'm the father. I wanted to say no and leave, but I couldn't, so I went with her. That's when I saw her. The most beautiful creature in the world. She looked at me in that way... oh, I know it didn't happen, it's just my imagination, but I saw so much... trust in her eyes. Like she knew I'll do everything to protect her. It scared me at first. Coward Anderson was going to run. But when I was holding her... I wanted her to stay in my arms forever."

Kurt looked at him with eyes wide open. He has never saw Blaine talking about someone in that way and he wasn't quite sure if he liked it.

"Does she know that you..."

Blaine nodded. "She's too young to fully understand, but... I'm trying to tell her that ever since she started talking. I want her to grow up with that knowledge."

"Yeah, I understand... And well, she's beautiful," said Kurt. "She's gonna be a heartbreaker, just like her daddy."

Blaine probably didn't notice the double meaning of that sentence, because he only laughed.

"Don't even tell me! When the teacher in the kindergarten told me that Claire befriended some boy named Mark, I almost had a heart attack. My first thought was 'Find and destroy'."

"Who would have thought you're going to be the overprotective dad," smiled Kurt. '_Or dad at all_,' he added in his head.

"Yeah, who would have thought..." Blaine creased his eyebrows and looked at him cautiously. "I'm sorry... It makes no sense, it has to be a shock for you that I'm..."

"No, it's fine," Kurt lied smoothly. "I just need some time to process all the information, but... Yeah, it's fine."

The awkward silence surrounded them. Kurt used it, to collect some courage to ask Blaine a question that was bouncing around his head ever since he saw Blaine.

"Your boyfriend doesn't mind that you're here?"

"My boyfriend?" Blaine repeated dully.

"You know. The lucky man you're raising that little angel with."

Blaine looked at him, eyes tired.

"Do you think I have time for a love life when I'm raising a child? School, job, Claire... I don't even know how I'm doing that. Anyway, I kissed dating goodbye after many sleepless nights when I moved from bed to changing table."

Kurt was impressed. "So, you're studying?"

"Yes, law. You know, without studies I won't get a promotion and without the promotion I won't be able to take care of Claire... and so on."

Kurt didn't like the direction, where this conversation was heading. In every moment Blaine could ask what he's doing. But he didn't have a choice, he had to do it.

"So... where are you working?" he asked.

"At a small company. My father got me the job. You know, they usually don't take people without a college education... I really wanted to be independent, but when Claire was born, I didn't have a choice, I needed to swallow my pride," he smiled a little. "But while we're at that topic, I expected to see you on one of the many Broadway posters, Mr. Hummel."

Kurt's heartbeat speeded up. He was very grateful that he was no longer connected to a heart rate monitor, because he would be in an awkward situation.

"Can't we say the same about you, Mr. Anderson?" he asked. He sighed with relief, when Blaine started laughing.

"It was never my dream. However, I still sing in my almost-free time. But I'm a little ashamed, because my daughter is much better than me. I think I should sign her up for singing lessons."

"Be careful or Rachel might want to take her under her wings. I may not believe in God, but when I look at her, I consider the existence of Satan."

Blaine laughed and send him his warm smile, that reminded Kurt about high school times.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you."

***  
>After a week, Kurt finally left hospital. Blaine promised he'll call and they would meet, but Kurt highly doubted it.<p>

And he wasn't wrong.

Another two weeks passed and Blaine still hadn't called. Kurt was angry at himself, that he even had a hope. It reminded him so much about the story that happened few years ago. Looks like life hasn't taught him anything.

And of course, he needed money. In his current state he couldn't have customers and his last one was a really long time ago. Luckily for him, Rachel was a very thoughtful person, so she visited him every day with groceries and they were cooking dinner for both of them. She was leaving on evenings, when they didn't know what to talk about anymore and the TV started to get boring. That's how they time has passed.

One day Rachel left a little sooner than always, leaving Kurt alone, which, as he knew, couldn't end well. But he was kind of glad, because it was an occasion to finally leave the house.

***  
>The bar was crowded. A little bit too crowded, for Kurt's taste. But tonight he didn't want to fuss about it, he just needed a place where he would be able to forget about his problems.<br>He ordered his favorite drink and sat at the bar. From his place he noticed straightaway a few prostitutes, some better, some worse. Just after a few months of working, they were just about as easy to miss as neon signs.

Some man tried to offer Kurt a drink, but he gently showed him he's not interested. Suddenly there was a group behind his back, which stirred his interest. Someone jumped on stage.  
>Kurt made himself more comfortable on his chair and squinted his eyes. Well, well.<p>

Noah Puckerman in the flesh.

A guitar, dark clothes and devilish smile. Just like in old times. He was wearing tight pants and unbuttoned, loose shirt, which showed off a little (like Kurt quickly noticed) of the boy's very muscular torso.

_'Boys_'.

Kurt laughed.

Noah Puckerman definitely wasn't a boy anymore. He wouldn't recognize him if it wasn't for a guitar and the mohawk, reminding him of high school times.

His thoughts were interrupted by happy, loud music. Puck stepped to the microphone.

_If you're havin' trouble with your high school head _  
><em> He's givin' you the blues <em>  
><em> You wanna graduate but not in 'is bed <em>  
><em> Here's what you gotta do <em>  
><em> Pick up the phone <em>  
><em> I'm always home <em>  
><em> Call me any time <em>  
><em> Just ring <em>  
><em> 36 24 36 hey <em>  
><em> I lead a life of crime <em>

The guests joined during the chorus, singing loudly. Kurt smirked.

_Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap _  
><em> Dirty Deeds and they're Done Dirt Cheap <em>  
><em> You got problems in your life of love <em>  
><em> You got a broken heart <em>  
><em> (She's) He's double dealin' with your best friend <em>  
><em> That's when the teardrops start - fella <em>  
><em> Pick up the phone <em>  
><em> I'm here alone <em>  
><em> Or make a social call <em>  
><em> Come right in <em>  
><em> Forget about him <em>  
><em> We'll have ourselves a ball <em>  
><em> Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap <em>  
><em> Dirty Deeds and they're Done Dirt Cheap <em>  
><em> Concrete shoes, cyanide, TNT <em>  
><em> Done Dirt Cheap <em>  
><em> Neckties, contracts, high voltage <em>  
><em> Done Dirt Cheap <em>

When Puck left the stage, Kurt started walking to him with a smile.

"Looking good, Puckerman."

Puck turned around to face him. For a moment he was surprised, but then, the smile crept onto his face.

"I would like to say the same, Hummel. Just don't tell me you wanna fight for a solo."

Kurt laughed.

"Let's say I don't have time for this."

"So, you're waiting for a client?"

Kurt looked at him with wide eyes.

"How did you..."

It was Noah's time to laugh.

"If you would work here as long as I do, you would know, too."

"If that was true, you would have known that with this," Kurt nodded at his cast. "I can only give someone a blowjob in the toilet."

Puck raised his eyebrows and shook his head, almost with appreciation.

"Well, well, Hummel. Who would have thought. I thought that now I would work for you, and look what happened."

"Not everything works out the way we would want it to," Kurt pointed at the stage. "Don't get me wrong, but I've never thought you'll get that far. New York, well done."

"It's still not the peak of my dreams. But I do what I like. Can you say the same thing about yourself?"

Kurt smiled sadly. "Touché."

Puck packed his things and pointed at the door.

"Despite everything, I hate this place. Are you coming with me?"

"I was hoping you'd ask."

***  
>"It's a tough break, man."<br>They were in Kurt's apartment. Kurt was leaning against the wall on the east of his living room, while Noah was leaning against the west side, so they were sitting at the opposite sides of the room. Well, considering the amount of the alcohol they drunk, they were more laying than sitting.

"You know, the last thing you're expecting from your gay ex boyfriend, is that he'll come to visit you with his fucking child..." continued Kurt. "I had the right to be a little shocked."

Puck moved the bottle to his lips.

"Sooner gay than straight. Just saying..." he mumbled. When he noticed that the bottle is empty, which took him long enough, he nodded to the alcohol which was laying next to Kurt's leg.  
>"Puckerman, stop drinking." Kurt rolled his eyes, but he threw the bottle at Puck. " I mean... I don't know, I don't think I feel anything to Blaine. It's impossible, right? After so many years..."<p>

Puck make an effort to focus on Kurt, but he managed to talk after a while.

"Hummel, admit it. You're jealous of him."

"Jealous of what exactly?"

"That he didn't fuck up his life the way you did. Or no. You're mad that he didn't help you fix yours. You blame him for where you are now."

Kurt sent him a mocking glare. "When did you get your psychology degree, Puckerman?"

"Oh, you know, the school I was going to gave out the degrees to everyone. It was called life."

Kurt sighed. "I just want to..."

"...bang him?"

"That, too," admitted Kurt. Puck laughed. "What? Are you surprised? After such a long time lying in the bed, I felt sexually frustrated while I was looking at nurses and I'm not into women... And of course Blaine couldn't visit me wearing garbage bag. No, he was wearing tight pants and even tighter shirt, like he was doing this with premeditation. It was so hard to look at it without wanting to claw these damn clothes off him."

"So what was your problem? Even if he didn't want the same thing, I'm talking from the experience now, right after you would unzip his pants, he would stop having objections."

Kurt raised his eyebrows, hearing the word "objections", but it was the only comment about this.

"From experience, huh? How often do gay guys unzip your pants?"

"You're overstepping, Hummel, and we're not even friends."

"You know, if you want to, I don't charge much."

Puck looked at him heavily and started laughing.

"That's my boy." He wanted to pat his back, but then he remembered that Kurt's sitting on the exact opposite side of the room, so he sighed. The floor was too comfortable. "He has no idea what you're doing, right?" he asked after a while.

Kurt shook his head. "How do you imagine that? "Hi, Blaine, guess what, I became a whore!" He could be a little bit surprised."

"Stop calling yourself a whore and listen to me for a while. Sooner or later Blaine will find out about this. And no matter if you want to admit it or not, princess, you still care about him."

"I know that. But it only makes everything harder and... Did you just call me a princess?"

"I'm probably not the first one," smiled Puck. Kurt wanted to throw something at him, but he didn't have a strength to do this.

"Idiot," he mumbled.  
>"Idiot or not, I think I should go." He looked at his wrist, crease his eyebrows. "Oh, yeah, I don't even have a watch..."<p>

Kurt stood up and called the cab. When it arrived, he helped Puck stand up from the floor and kissed his cheek goodbye.

"It was good to see you, Noah."

He was going to close the door, but Puck turned around to look at him.

"Don't be so harsh on Blaine, man. I'm talking from experience and I know that not many guys would do what he did, if they were in his place."

Kurt smiled a little.

"You're a very experienced man, Puckerman."


End file.
